I’d like to thank all those that have read the first two installments of this short story. Feel free to catch up on them if you haven’t done so already! I’d also like to thank those that have commented and given me feedback, you are appreciated! Please keep the comments and feedback coming!
December 7th 2007, a day that I’d never forget, the number seven was supposed to bring me luck. Now I hated it with a passion. Mr. Light skin and his friends had their way with me, they were even more excited when they discovered that I had never been touched by a man before.
I was thrown into the backseat of their car, where they forced two shots of Hennessy down my throat and tried to shove weed into my mouth but I spit at them and cursed the day that they were born. That seemed to turn them on even more, they laughed in my face. We finally got to our destination after about 10 minutes. It was a deserted filthy alley way, they proceeded to take turns in the backseat. After the second violator, I became numb. I couldn’t yell nor shed another tear. My life was officially over. Mr. Light skin was the last one to mount the platform, I looked him square in his eyes. At first he hesitated and I saw a hint of fear reflecting from his glare, then his counterparts began to cheer him on and offered him another puff of weed.
He suddenly turned into a wild breast and tortured me until I felt life seep through my body. I don’t know how I made it but I found myself at home. Thankfully everyone was asleep, so I tiptoed into my room and locked the door behind me. I looked into my full length mirror and couldn’t recognize the girl that stared back at me, I looked down and saw drops of blood on my jeans. I felt filthy, used, and violated. I felt like crying but the tears wouldn’t surface. I ripped my clothes off and entered the shower, at first the water was warm and it was soothing my body. But I suddenly felt a surge of rage and adjusted the facet to boiling hot water. I stood in the shower until I felt like I was about to pass out.
Now on my bed, I wondered where God was when all this was happening. I couldn’t utter a word of prayer. Or was he trying to stop me when I suddenly felt the urge to turn and go back into Wendy’s or when it kept coming to my mind to pick up the phone? Nah, he is the almighty, he could have stopped it if he wanted to. But why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? I wasn’t perfect but I tried! I prayed and studied the Word everyday, went to church, was a virgin…well until today anyway. Sigh, why does bad things happen to good people? Or maybe I wasn’t good enough, maybe I didn’t pray or fast enough, maybe I wasn’t holy enough because I liked to watch reality tv shows and used cursed words once in a while when joking around with my friends.
After that experience I became a changed girl, I was scarred for life. All my family and friends noticed it. The once bubbly, full of life, friendly me died that day, December 7th 2007. I was always angry and irritable and I found it difficult to trust people. I stopped praying and only went to church when mummy forced me too. When I was there I didn’t bother paying attention, I didn’t believe that God was good nor did he love me. He had his selected few…he had his favorites and I wasn’t one of them.
I kept to myself most of the time, avoided hanging out with friends and blamed it on my long hours at work. My room became my solace, it was only in there that I felt safe. Mummy would come and check on me from time to time and I’d blame my sudden MIA behavior on school. She knew something was wrong, I guess it is what you call a woman’s institution but she called it perception. She’d try to encourage me with the Word of God, Romans 8:28 was one of her favorite scriptures: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” I’d plaster a very believing fake smile on my face and shout “AMEN!!!” and then laugh hysterically once she walked out of the room. Yea right, how could what happen to me work together for my good?
Christmas was once my favorite holiday but this year, I wished that it had disappeared from the calendar and people’s minds. I didn’t want to be happy, I didn’t want to celebrate the birth of Jesus because I died two weeks ago, I didn’t want to do the usual spending time cooking, eating, and exchanging gifts with the family. I just wanted to stay in my room and day dream about a better life, a life void of pain, sadness, disappointments and secrets. In my day dreams I was free. I had a great life, there were no tears or darkness, I was happy once again.
However at nighttime, I came back to reality. My nights were filled with sleepless nights, once I closed my eyes, nightmares took over. With scenes from December 7th 2007 taking center stage. Thank God for my new discovery, sleeping pills. They came in handy once in a while, making me too sleepy to wake up in cold sweats and screams of terror. But they only worked when I overdosed on them. I didn’t want my family to experience another loss, so I’d overdose three times a week and endure the nightmares for the rest of the week.
I felt lost and empty, I hated my life. I didn’t feel pretty enough and even though I had lost 20 pounds, I felt fat. My love for food had dwindled, I just ate to survive. I thought the ringing in of the new year would turn my weeping into dancing but I still felt bound. Unable to move on with my life. I was stuck on December 7th 2007 even though it was now February 28, 2008. There was no day that went by that I did not think about the incident. They say time heals all wounds, either that was a lie or this wound could not be healed.
One day I heard mummy praying for me fervently as I walked past her room. She did all that she could to get me to open up, but I made up my mind to never utter a word about what happened. I knew that she couldn’t bare the pain, so I decided to be her and my burden bearer.
“Father in the name of Jesus, I place Iwalewa before you. I declare it is well with her, I declare wholeness spirit, soul, and body. I declare healing from every hurt in the name of Jesus. I declare that she is kept by you father, that no evil befalls her in the mighty name of Jesus!!! Father when I was pregnant with her you told me that she was special and that you have sent her as a prophet to her generation. You told me that she’d do great and mighty things in your name. I declare that no weapon fashioned against her shall prosper, no plan of the enemy concerning her can stand, she stands perfect and complete in your Will. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”
For the first time in a long while, I cried. Was that really true? How can I, do mighty things for God? I was too messed up, too broken, there was no way that he could use me. What did I have to offer. No, not me. Not Iwaoluwalewa. My life was over before it started, God had changed his mind. No, not me.